


The Time Has Come

by CarthagoDelenda



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Brief gore reference, Disabled Character, Gen, post-sdr2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 21:37:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6025984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarthagoDelenda/pseuds/CarthagoDelenda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Survivors of Despair try to decide who to resurrect first. A gift fic for Lorealie!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Time Has Come

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! This is the first in a series of fics that were supposed to be Christmas gifts, but which are going to be a little late. :P I had a lot of fun writing this one, and I hope you have fun reading it! And thank you, Lorealie, for your friendship and support. :D

“So…”

Kazuichi tried to think of a way to finish his sentence, but the only words he could think to say were just fillers, empty and meaningless. _What do you think? What should we do?_ They’d already asked themselves that a million times and he didn’t see any point in being the one to ask again.

He kept his grin, though he was sure the others couldn’t see him. They all stood together in the doorway, well away from him or anything else in the containment room, casting long shadows into the darkness. He couldn’t quite see their faces, though their silhouettes were clear enough for him to distinguish between them. They’d all turned their heads when he’d spoken, but none of them had responded, or even shown the slightest curiosity about what he’d meant to say.

“If it helps,” a voice from behind him said, “I’ve recalculated a 82.0192% full success rate and a 9.877% partial success rate based on the adjusted formula and the results of the simulation runs.”

“I-I think that’s great, see,” Kazuichi said. “Yeah, that’s… it’s way better than what we had in the beginning…”

“But it’s still not nearly reassuring,” Sonia-san said. Her head hung low on her chest, so he couldn’t have seen her face if he’d tried, but the pain in her voice sent a spasm of inadequacy through him.

“Oh, come on, like this is hard.” A shadow moved slightly as Akane Owari folded her emaciated arms. “It’s gotta be Komaeda.”

“No,” Hajime Hinata said, just as he had every time before. It was too dim to see his expression, so Souda couldn’t tell if he was upset or just defeated. But then, even if he could, the long, disheveled hair that always grew back so fast had hidden him from view, anyway.

“Oh, _fuck off_.” Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu moved fluidly to block Hajime’s view of the pods, which was much more effectively intimidating now that he and Hajime were about the same height. “Are you really gonna do this again?”

“Yes. I am.” Kazuichi caught a sliver of Hajime’s glare through the curtain of his hair, red and glowing and cold. “It’s a bad idea, and we’re all going to regret it.”

“What, you mean if he _lives_?” Kuzuryuu made a snorting sound. “If he does, then whatever. We’ll deal with him when it happens. What’s the problem?”

“That’s not the problem,” Hajime said. “You don’t understand-”

 _“_ That bastard tried to kill us!” Fuyuhiko looked away from Hajime. “That’s all I need to understand. Do we really need to hold this up just for this? I say we-”

“Kuzuryuu-san, we agreed the decision should be unanimous,” Sonia-san interrupted. “If we were to move ahead without Hinata-san’s consent, it would not bode favorably for the future.”

“Y-Yeah!” Kazuichi said, jumping at the chance to say something useful. “And, besides…d-do we _really_ want to deal with this guy when it works?” He grinned, nervously. “Cause it’s going to work. I’m not even worried about that. But you’re all kinda acting like you’re voting to….kill…him…”

His voice trailed off as he began to regret his words, but the damage was already done. Both Fuyuhiko and Sonia-san tensed, Akane growled, and Hajime hunched his shoulders, hiding his face to the point that Kazuichi could no longer see his eyes.

“It really is far more likely than not that the subject chosen for the procedure would be given a favorable result,” the computerized voice interrupted. “So if Komaeda-kun were to be chosen first…” He hesitated. “I…”

“Alter Ego, hold,” Hajime said. Alter Ego immediately silenced himself. He always seemed so human until he was given a solid command – which might have been why they didn’t give him solid commands all that often.

“Hey, uh, dude…” Kazuichi chanced a step closer to his friend, as much as it frightened him to do so. He looked so different, now, than he had in the simulation – or even when he had when they’d just left, and he’d still been cutting his hair. “If you’d just… let us know what you’re thinking instead of acting so weird all the time…”

“He’s got a point for once,” Akane said, but didn’t repeat the question. Fuyuhiko and Sonia-san just looked on silently, without so much as acknowledging Kazuichi or what he’d done to try and break the stalemate.

Hajime didn’t look up for a long time, and when he did it was without any change in his expression. “It’s not going to matter either way,” he said. “Komaeda didn’t want to live. He was always going on and on about how he wanted to… well, he got what he wanted. And I don’t think his luck will allow him to live again.”

A pit had settled somewhere in the middle of Kazuichi’s stomach, one that twisted his innards whenever he tried to think about what Hajime had said. “You don’t…really believe in that, do you?” he said. “All that luck crap Komaeda was going on about?”

Hajime balled his hands into fists, but didn’t respond. Too late Kazuichi remembered Nanami, and the logic of her conviction, and look she’d had on her face when she’d died. Of course Hajime had to be remembering that, and of course he had to be convinced Komaeda had something to do with why she’d died, or gotten erased, or whatever it was…

“Of course he does,” Fuyuhiko said, before Kazuichi could speak up. “He ate up every word that came out of his mouth-”

“Kuzuryuu-san, really, that’s enough,” Sonia said, lowering her head. Her hair still hadn’t grown back, even after so many months, and it hurt Kazuichi to remember what it had been. “If dying was his good luck…then by your logic, the opposite must soon occur, shouldn’t it? And our chances of reversing his luck are high-”

“We can’t rely on that,” Hajime said. “Besides, he’s already had his bad luck. We didn’t die.” His voice dropped down to a whisper. “We were supposed to.”

“Hinata-san…” Sonia-san sighed, but not in sorrow, as she had before. Now it sounded more like exasperation. “I’ve already told you, many times. We can’t get caught up in that kind of fatalism. If we do, then…”

“Fine, whatever,” Akane interrupted. “We can think of someone else, it’s not that hard. I say we at least go for a killer-”

_“I’m not going to make Peko some fucking guinea pig!”_

“Hey, I never said that!” Akane said, turning her wheelchair around to face Fuyuhiko. “When did I say that, huh?”

“And you said I was holding things up,” Hajime muttered.

“Huh? What was that?” Fuyuhiko spun round, eyes locked on Hajime.

“Nothing,” Hajime said, his eyes flashing. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re both holding things up,” Akane said. “We could’ve had them all back by now.”

“We don’t know that,” Hajime said. “I don’t think we’re putting as much thought into this as we should.”

“D-Do we really need to, though?” Kazuichi said, though his voice felt like lead. “Look, I’ve done the simulations a million times. It’s always worked…except when it’s only worked a little bit…”

“Souda.” Hajime didn’t look up at Kazuichi, even as he addressed him. “That’s enough.”

 _Enough? You’re not even letting me talk!_ Kazuichi stopped himself before he could speak. He still wanted to be Hajime’s friend, and if he said that… well, he’d end up like the rest of them, wouldn’t he? He’d thought Fuyuhiko and Hajime were finally becoming friends, and look at them now. And Sonia-san… she’d think he was some kind of a buffoon, even more than she already did. No, he had to stand firm. He had to keep this going. If he didn’t…

“Ah…”

Everyone started where they stood as Alter Ego reappeared on the screen. While he only had a limited set of facial expressions, he looked a lot more terrified than Kazuichi thought he had any reason to be. “It’s almost midnight,” he said. “You just…you wanted me to let you know…”

His words echoed into the silence, as five sets of eyes looked down at the floor in response. “That’s late,” Fuyuhiko mumbled. “Real late…”

“We can leave this until tomorrow,” Hajime said.

“You’ve said that every night,” Akane said.

“I know,” Hajime said. “We’ll… we’ll think about it some more. I’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay?”

He turned, and walked out of the door and into the hallway without waiting for a response. Fuyuhiko clenched his fists, and turned as if to follow after him, but within an instant he seemed to reconsider; he relaxed into a hunch and looked back at the ground. Then he left, walking back the way he’d come, away from Hajime. Akane and Sonia-san were the next to leave, without so much as a parting word to Kazuichi. As they walked they spoke in hushed tones; he couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but he could hear the _squeak squeak_ of Akane’s chair growing fainter as she wheeled herself away.

Finally, he was the last one left. He stayed at his spot for some time, staring down at the floor, trying to avoid the glow of the containment pod readouts in his peripheral vision. And then, long after the murmurs from the hallway had died off into the distance, he turned around and headed out of the lab.

===

And then, a few hours later, he came back.

The darkness in the room was absolute, but only for a second before the motion sensor caught his footsteps and reactivated Alter Ego. All around him the various displays shifted out of sleep mode, waiting and ready should he need to use them. The last to start was the overhead interface, which glowed a fluorescent green as Kazuichi approached its base. It flickered, and then displayed a brief progress bar, which manifested with a _pop_ into the image of Chihiro Fujisaki.

“Ah, what’s-” Alter Ego looked around the room, then did a startled double-take when he noticed Kazuichi. “Souda-kun-!”

“Shh.” Kazuichi held a finger to his lips.

“But-”

“You’ll wake them up.” He moved away from the display, and ran his fingers across one of the nearby keyboards. Sweat beaded on his face; he felt guiltier than ever about the order, but it was the only choice he had. “Remove the resurrection procedure from the simulator and apply it to the main Neo World Program. I’m going to run the hardware check in the meantime.”

Alter Ego blinked several times – and looked more afraid than ever. Was that a conscious response? Could Alter Ego have subconscious responses? He didn’t know. “But, Souda-kun, that’s…”

“You have to do it as fast as you can.” He turned away from Alter Ego and headed for the nearest containment pod readout screen. He tried not to look at who it was, but of course he knew. He’d spent so much time in this room that he’d memorized the order by heart.  

“Souda-kun…” Alter Ego sounded irate, but he’d still modulated his voice, just as he’d been told. “Your friends… you promised that-”

“I _know_ what I promised,” Kazuichi said, narrowing his eyes. “Are you going to start the program or not?”

“I…I am,” he said. “I’ll be finished in nine minutes and twenty-eight seconds.”

“Good.” Kazuichi finished his check on the first pod, and stood to move on to the next. Nine minutes and twenty-eight seconds… he’d have more than enough time. Nine more pods to check, and then the connecting systems, and the brainwave locators and interfaces, and then…

“You promised them you’d decide together,” Alter Ego said, speaking at him through every speaker in the room. “I know you’re impatient, and I know it’s frustrating. But the others…why are you breaking your friends’ trust?”

His shoulders tensed as he hunched over the screen. “Right, their trust,” he said. “Because we’re getting along _so_ well.”

“They’ll make a choice someday,” Alter Ego said. “They have to. And when they do, you’ll all be happier for it. We both know it’s going to work, and if we’re just patient…”

“I’ve been patient enough.” He stopped halfway to the next pod, and balled his hands into fists. “Weren’t we supposed to work together on this? And make a bright new future, or whatever it was? I’ve been the only one trying to help anyone.” Even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t true. He’d all the help and support he could ever hope for, even if the others had started to lose their faith along the way. “All they’ve been doing is arguing, and living in the past…”

“They’re hurting. And so are you.” Alter Ego sighed. “It’s not worth the damage it’ll cause, Souda-kun.”

“Could you stop me if you wanted to?”

“I could,” Alter Ego said.

“But you’re not.”

Alter Ego paused for several seconds, and then lifted his hand to his mouth. “You’re convinced this is a good idea.” It wasn’t a question.

“I’m not,” Kazuichi said. “But it’s the only thing I can do. If I don’t, they’ll just keep arguing. And then what’s the point of sticking together if we don’t even like each other anymore?”

“But…”

“Does it really matter who it is?” He worked quietly and quickly, giving the pods much quicker once-overs than before. “Whatever happens… well, we’ll deal with it. And it’s either that, or…”

He didn’t speak again for some time, not until he’d checked the final pod. NAGITO KOMAEDA, the display said. His vital signs were so much weaker than the others’, Kazuichi noticed, and the computer had to be working double-time to keep him alive. But exactly why was a mystery he’d never been able to solve. He wondered what Komaeda was thinking, if he was thinking at all.

“Or this,” he said. “Okay. Alright…” He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. He’d rehearsed this situation in his head time and time again, but now that he was actually doing it, it felt less real than ever.

“We’re ready,” Alter Ego said. It was the only commentary he had to offer; if he had any opinion on what Kazuichi was doing, he kept it to himself.

Kazuichi stuck his hand out in front of him, and pointed his finger out into space. Then he stepped around in a circle, spinning until he lost all sense of direction. He stumbled once before he came to a stop, wobbling slightly – and then, just to be safe, he took two steps to the right.

He hoped it wasn’t Pekoyama. He’d be causing a lot of trouble one way or the other, but if it was Pekoyama then Fuyuhiko would probably kill him, or chop off his fingers, or kill him BY chopping off his fingers. But even if it was, it would spoil the philosophical spirit of the plan if he didn’t go through with the resurrection. Whoever it was, no matter what he thought of them, it was something that fate had to decree for him.

He opened his eyes, and took a step toward the pod. Based only on the surrounding wall consoles, he knew immediately who it was.

“Alter Ego,” he said.

“Souda-kun,” Alter Ego said.

“Start the activation sequence for Gundam Tanaka.”

“I…” Alter Ego paused. “I understand. I’m organizing his avatar data right now. Barring any problems… it should be ready in about thirty minutes.”

“Thirty minutes.” He nodded, and then, for the first time, he looked back at Alter Ego. “Hey, ah… thanks.”

Alter Ego didn’t look happy, not in the least. But Kazuichi hoped what he was seeing wasn’t anger. It looked a lot more like wistfulness. “I want this to work out for the best,” he said.

“It… it will. It should.” He doubted it even as he said it, but he still gave Alter Ego a smile. Alter Ego even returned it, for what it was worth, and then closed his eyes as he concentrated on the task at hand. Kazuichi could understand. Organizing Tanaka’s memories had to be pretty daunting.

He looked back at the pod, and took a few steps forward. In the dim light, he couldn’t see him at all, or anyone else for that matter. A shiver of stress made its way through his body, one that lingered even after he told himself he couldn’t let himself give in.

“Hey,” he said. “You’re one lucky bastard, you know that?”

There was no response, not from Alter Ego and not from Tanaka. “You’re gonna make ‘em all think I tried to kill you,” he said. “But I didn’t, okay?”

He turned his back to the pod, and slumped slightly against the lid. “I don’t even know why I would. All the petty crap in the simulator… you’re not even going to remember it. And it’s not like it matters now…” He hugged his arms around himself. “I spent all that time thinking Hinata was the traitor, and I said all that crap about Sonia-san… and that’s not even the beginning of all I’ve got to make up for. Am I any better than any of you?”

He sighed, and then laughed to himself. “I guess not,” he said. “I’m…sorry about the hamsters. I guess you can get new ones.” He lowered his head. “I hope you’re what we needed. If you are, well… you’ve got a lot of our hope riding on however this works.”

He couldn’t think of anything else to say – and so, he didn’t. He closed his eyes, listened to the hums and whirs of the computers around him as they worked to piece Tanaka back together, and through it all he tried his hardest to stay awake.


End file.
